Continued from Part 3
The whole scene for both days was somewhat picturesque, with the snow on the ground and snow flying off and on in the air. Several times we all stopped to watch the cloud of black that was really birds flying across our hollow to the pine trees on the east ridge, and then over to other trees later. We imagined that they were watching our proceedings with interest, hoping to capture some of the meat for themselves. Butchering these hogs was a very surreal experience for me both days. It has had a profound impact on me, as evidenced by this writing that is now in it’s tenth page on a Microsoft word document, with single spacing, no pictures, and a small font size of 12.
I will long remember this event and the lessons we learned butchering our first hogs. These past two days mark a milestone for our homestead, and possibly a turning point for us. I now feel that we can do anything we need or desire to do. There are many more old-fashioned homestead endeavors on our minds that were once the objects of dreams and wishful thinking. They all now seem attainable, and I feel a renewed zeal to forge ahead into the unexplored realms of my self-sufficient fantasy world.
With God, all things truly are possible. I desire to live a quiet, peaceful and simple life that is pleasing to Him and as we journey down the path toward self-sufficiency, I want Him to be glorified each step of the way. He is equipping my family for a purpose and is positioning us to be a great help and encouragement to others both now and in the uncertain times we will face in the future. Thank you, Lord, for all that you are allowing us to experience here at this wonderful homestead you have provided in Pure Water Hollow.
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1 comment
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Morning Sunshine on February 10, 2009 at 7:10 am
wow – thanks for sharing this adventurer with us. This is something I have wondered if I could do – slaughter animals I have raised. We are still working on egg chickens, though, so I guess I have a few years and animal adventures to have first though!
Sounds like your son and you handled it well and got a lot done!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Part 3: Reflections On Our 1st Home Hog Butchering (with Pictures)….OR …. Our Journey Toward Self-Sufficiency
Continued from Part 2.
James was going to be teaching the art of hog butchering so he brought along his 15-year old nephew, Stephen, to learn along with us. James announced that Matthew could shoot the first hog and Stephen would be doing the sticking. He told Matthew where to aim with the imaginary X from left ear to right eye and right ear to left eye. He explained to Stephen how to jump on the downed hog from behind, grab an ear and make a deep cut across the throat with his knife from side to side, severing the jugular vein. This needed to be done quickly to allow the blood to empty while the heart was still beating.
James asked Matthew if he had ever shot anything before to which he replied, “Only targets.” From the very beginning my family all knew that this hog was being raised at our homestead to be meat on the table. But Matthew had done about 95% of said raising and had visited this pig almost every day of its’ life. This was a friendly pig that had been well taken care of. We made his time on this earth a very peaceful and happy existence. I wondered if Matthew would be up for such a task; pulling the trigger at point blank range on this animal that he had invested so much time and energy.
The frozen barnyard was bright with the fresh snow and we all gathered around as the pig was led out of the barn. Matthew did not hesitate an inch as he used my .22 pistol to put a well placed bullet right between the eyes. The pig immediately dropped right where he had been standing. The nervous system made the body shake and flop. Stephen did as instructed with knife in hand and blood squirted in the air. Soon there was a large pool of crimson that looked more vivid than it should have due to the contrasting brilliance of the snow-white ground around it. My son, Matthew, did not shirk in the midst of a duty that would have been very difficult for most any man. He seemed to understand that this was what God had intended for mankind and animal-kind beginning in that 9th chapter of Genesis.
I grabbed hold of the back legs and Matthew the front as we attempted to lift the carcass onto the tailgate of my old 79 Ford pick-up. I didn’t think 250 pounds of dead weight could be so heavy and it took us by surprise. I’m sure we could have heaved the animal up had we strained and grunted a bit more, but instead James and Stephen pitched in. With each of us on a leg, we easily hoisted the body up into the truck.
I drove the truck down near the house to the chosen spot for hanging the pigs. The children’s swing-set that I had built over 10 years ago was the perfect spot. With the swings removed I could back the truck right beneath the top crossbeam. This beam is constructed with a 4×4 and a 2×4 nailed together and is about 10 feet up from the ground. It is a very strong beam, and the swing set was rated for up to a 300-pound person to be able to swing.
A hole was slit through the back ankle, being careful not to knick the tendon. This created a perfect place to loop the rope through.
It is surprising that such a tendon would be strong enough to support the weight of such a large animal, but the pig was hoisted up a minute later with the aid of our come-along and hung there with no problem.
James slit the body cavity open with a sharp knife, Matthew split the pelvic area with his sharp hatchet to allow the cavity to open up wider, and we proceeded to pull out the intestines and organs. James works in the medical profession (when he’s not butchering hogs), so he was able to explain how a pigs’ anatomy is set up in pretty much the same way as a humans. We examined the lungs, kidney, stomach and heart and kept the livers. All the intestines and organs we did not want were caught in a wash tub right below the carcass. The unusual smell did not seem to deter Matthew as he helped to pull out the various organs and drop them in the tub. The head was also cut the rest of the way off and put into the tub.
The first cut:
Splitting it open with the hatchet:
The intestines are going into the tub:
Next we skinned the carcass using razor sharp knives. (Matthew had a whet stone and James brought a sharpener and every so often someone would decide their knife had gotten too dull and spend a couple of minutes putting the edge back on their knife.) Once the skin got started it peeled off quite easily by pulling along with a knife, and we were also able to carve off much of the fat that is just under the skin.
Starting the skinning:
Working on the skinning:
My 11-year old daughter, Christina, had been with us most of the time and this was now something she could help with. She did a great job with the skinning as well as the fat removal.
At one point we had 5 knives all trimming off the fat at the same time, so we accumulated a lot of fat in a short amount of time. We will be able to render lard from the fat so we wanted to keep some of it. We filled up 4 large mixing bowls with the fat, even though we had left quite a bit on the skin. Surprisingly, the fat just felt like a white rubbery substance and was not the least repulsive to any of us. With the skin off the carcass, it was difficult now to remember that it was a living, breathing creature just a short time before.
We left the carcass hanging and went up to the barn to get the other hog to repeat the whole process. The actual skinning and gutting process could go much faster this time, as we knew what to expect and could now help more. Killing and loading the second animal should have been easier than the first, also. As we confidently walked and drove up the mountain to the barn, we had no idea that killing the second pig would be a whole new lesson for us.
This hog apparently had a double skull, as Matthew’s first shot did not drop the animal like the previous one. He used James’ .22 rifle this time instead of the pistol, but after the first shot failed, he reached for the more comfortable pistol. Matthew put another shot in the hog’s head and this time it caused the pig to run around the barn, leaving a trail of blood. Two more shots with the pistol did not stop the animal, even though it did go down on its’ front knees once. The pig continued to run around the barnyard making pitiful moans. He finally fell with another shot from the rifle, but when Stephen went to do the sticking, the pig was able to shake him off and proceeded to roll down the steep hill toward the ravine that is next to the barn yard! Matthew and James chased the animal down the hill, and finished cutting the jugular. It had landed on a small level area midway between the top and bottom of the ravine. Even after all this... 5 shots to the head, loss of much blood, a fall down a steep incline, and jugular and windpipe completely severed, we were all amazed when the hog stood back up on all fours! I thought it was going to go on over the edge down to the creek below, which would have been very bad for us.
Finally this incredible pig of steel laid down for good and we commenced to heave it up via rope and muscle power. Once again, 250 pounds of dead weight was surprisingly deceptive. It was too heavy and steep for even 4 of us to pull the carcass up the cliff-like hill successfully. We tried for several minutes, enduring the rope burns and putting our shoulder, back and arm muscles to the test. When muscle power failed this test, we turned to brain power. Someone realized that we could tie the rope onto the truck and pull the carcass up and out by backing the truck up. This proved to be quite a bit easier.
By the time we finally got this pig down to the swing set and hung up next to the other, darkness was starting to settle in. It is amazing how quickly the curtain of darkness can fall on a snowy winter evening when one’s attention is focused on a task. I fired up the old Coleman lantern, which gives off a good, bright light and Simon brought out some flashlights. With the darkness and cold beginning to weigh heavily upon us, everyone worked quickly and efficiently to gut and skin this animal. There was considerably less talking and bantering about compared to when we did the first pig that afternoon, as the job at hand took first priority now.
Starting on the 2nd hog, getting dark:
This day was the 1st hog butchering experience for both 15 year old boys:
Here are a few more pictures that give a good representation of the overall scenes of the day:
With the job completed we retired to the house, leaving the carcasses to cool overnight hanging from the swing-set. The daytime temperature had been at or near freezing all day and it was getting much colder now that the sun had gone down. This was perfect weather for hog butchering. James would return in the morning with his wife and all four children to show us how to make the individual cuts for the freezer.
The next day’s weather wasn’t quite as perfect as the high only got up to 21 degrees. Snow was falling heavily at times as James explained the different cuts of meat, and I think we all felt much colder. The outer edge of the carcass was frozen slightly, but the inside had not yet taken on much of the cold and was easy to cut. James showed us where to cut and Matthew made many of the cuts himself. We got bacon, loin chops, tenderloin, ribs, and roasts from the shoulders, butts, and hams. Matthew made almost all of the cuts himself on the second pig under James’ direction, as the women-folk prepared the meat in the house for the freezer.
My concluding comments are posted in the next entry:
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1 comment
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andiplus5 on February 22, 2009 at 8:23 am
Looks like you did a great job!! And you learned a lot.
I do have a tip for you and I hope I'm not offending you by giving it. We learned it the hard way. lol
If you run a stick through the back legs between the bone and tendon and tie the tail up to the stick too, it will stabilize your pig so you can skin it better. Or just to cut it better.
We used a come along too. The first time was a little harder than our next time but we learned from our mistakes. The first pig ended up on the floor of the shop we were using a couple of times. You should have seen us trying to haul that 300lb hog back up!! That was a sight to see! From your pics it doesn't look like you were as fraught with problems as we were.
Maybe we just like to do things the hard way first so we can appreciate the easy way! LOL
Enjoy that pig! Home butchered are the best tasting!
And God bless you for learning how to do it on your own!
James was going to be teaching the art of hog butchering so he brought along his 15-year old nephew, Stephen, to learn along with us. James announced that Matthew could shoot the first hog and Stephen would be doing the sticking. He told Matthew where to aim with the imaginary X from left ear to right eye and right ear to left eye. He explained to Stephen how to jump on the downed hog from behind, grab an ear and make a deep cut across the throat with his knife from side to side, severing the jugular vein. This needed to be done quickly to allow the blood to empty while the heart was still beating.
James asked Matthew if he had ever shot anything before to which he replied, “Only targets.” From the very beginning my family all knew that this hog was being raised at our homestead to be meat on the table. But Matthew had done about 95% of said raising and had visited this pig almost every day of its’ life. This was a friendly pig that had been well taken care of. We made his time on this earth a very peaceful and happy existence. I wondered if Matthew would be up for such a task; pulling the trigger at point blank range on this animal that he had invested so much time and energy.
The frozen barnyard was bright with the fresh snow and we all gathered around as the pig was led out of the barn. Matthew did not hesitate an inch as he used my .22 pistol to put a well placed bullet right between the eyes. The pig immediately dropped right where he had been standing. The nervous system made the body shake and flop. Stephen did as instructed with knife in hand and blood squirted in the air. Soon there was a large pool of crimson that looked more vivid than it should have due to the contrasting brilliance of the snow-white ground around it. My son, Matthew, did not shirk in the midst of a duty that would have been very difficult for most any man. He seemed to understand that this was what God had intended for mankind and animal-kind beginning in that 9th chapter of Genesis.
I grabbed hold of the back legs and Matthew the front as we attempted to lift the carcass onto the tailgate of my old 79 Ford pick-up. I didn’t think 250 pounds of dead weight could be so heavy and it took us by surprise. I’m sure we could have heaved the animal up had we strained and grunted a bit more, but instead James and Stephen pitched in. With each of us on a leg, we easily hoisted the body up into the truck.
I drove the truck down near the house to the chosen spot for hanging the pigs. The children’s swing-set that I had built over 10 years ago was the perfect spot. With the swings removed I could back the truck right beneath the top crossbeam. This beam is constructed with a 4×4 and a 2×4 nailed together and is about 10 feet up from the ground. It is a very strong beam, and the swing set was rated for up to a 300-pound person to be able to swing.
A hole was slit through the back ankle, being careful not to knick the tendon. This created a perfect place to loop the rope through.
It is surprising that such a tendon would be strong enough to support the weight of such a large animal, but the pig was hoisted up a minute later with the aid of our come-along and hung there with no problem.
James slit the body cavity open with a sharp knife, Matthew split the pelvic area with his sharp hatchet to allow the cavity to open up wider, and we proceeded to pull out the intestines and organs. James works in the medical profession (when he’s not butchering hogs), so he was able to explain how a pigs’ anatomy is set up in pretty much the same way as a humans. We examined the lungs, kidney, stomach and heart and kept the livers. All the intestines and organs we did not want were caught in a wash tub right below the carcass. The unusual smell did not seem to deter Matthew as he helped to pull out the various organs and drop them in the tub. The head was also cut the rest of the way off and put into the tub.
The first cut:
Splitting it open with the hatchet:
The intestines are going into the tub:
Next we skinned the carcass using razor sharp knives. (Matthew had a whet stone and James brought a sharpener and every so often someone would decide their knife had gotten too dull and spend a couple of minutes putting the edge back on their knife.) Once the skin got started it peeled off quite easily by pulling along with a knife, and we were also able to carve off much of the fat that is just under the skin.
Starting the skinning:
Working on the skinning:
My 11-year old daughter, Christina, had been with us most of the time and this was now something she could help with. She did a great job with the skinning as well as the fat removal.
At one point we had 5 knives all trimming off the fat at the same time, so we accumulated a lot of fat in a short amount of time. We will be able to render lard from the fat so we wanted to keep some of it. We filled up 4 large mixing bowls with the fat, even though we had left quite a bit on the skin. Surprisingly, the fat just felt like a white rubbery substance and was not the least repulsive to any of us. With the skin off the carcass, it was difficult now to remember that it was a living, breathing creature just a short time before.
We left the carcass hanging and went up to the barn to get the other hog to repeat the whole process. The actual skinning and gutting process could go much faster this time, as we knew what to expect and could now help more. Killing and loading the second animal should have been easier than the first, also. As we confidently walked and drove up the mountain to the barn, we had no idea that killing the second pig would be a whole new lesson for us.
This hog apparently had a double skull, as Matthew’s first shot did not drop the animal like the previous one. He used James’ .22 rifle this time instead of the pistol, but after the first shot failed, he reached for the more comfortable pistol. Matthew put another shot in the hog’s head and this time it caused the pig to run around the barn, leaving a trail of blood. Two more shots with the pistol did not stop the animal, even though it did go down on its’ front knees once. The pig continued to run around the barnyard making pitiful moans. He finally fell with another shot from the rifle, but when Stephen went to do the sticking, the pig was able to shake him off and proceeded to roll down the steep hill toward the ravine that is next to the barn yard! Matthew and James chased the animal down the hill, and finished cutting the jugular. It had landed on a small level area midway between the top and bottom of the ravine. Even after all this... 5 shots to the head, loss of much blood, a fall down a steep incline, and jugular and windpipe completely severed, we were all amazed when the hog stood back up on all fours! I thought it was going to go on over the edge down to the creek below, which would have been very bad for us.
Finally this incredible pig of steel laid down for good and we commenced to heave it up via rope and muscle power. Once again, 250 pounds of dead weight was surprisingly deceptive. It was too heavy and steep for even 4 of us to pull the carcass up the cliff-like hill successfully. We tried for several minutes, enduring the rope burns and putting our shoulder, back and arm muscles to the test. When muscle power failed this test, we turned to brain power. Someone realized that we could tie the rope onto the truck and pull the carcass up and out by backing the truck up. This proved to be quite a bit easier.
By the time we finally got this pig down to the swing set and hung up next to the other, darkness was starting to settle in. It is amazing how quickly the curtain of darkness can fall on a snowy winter evening when one’s attention is focused on a task. I fired up the old Coleman lantern, which gives off a good, bright light and Simon brought out some flashlights. With the darkness and cold beginning to weigh heavily upon us, everyone worked quickly and efficiently to gut and skin this animal. There was considerably less talking and bantering about compared to when we did the first pig that afternoon, as the job at hand took first priority now.
Starting on the 2nd hog, getting dark:
This day was the 1st hog butchering experience for both 15 year old boys:
Here are a few more pictures that give a good representation of the overall scenes of the day:
With the job completed we retired to the house, leaving the carcasses to cool overnight hanging from the swing-set. The daytime temperature had been at or near freezing all day and it was getting much colder now that the sun had gone down. This was perfect weather for hog butchering. James would return in the morning with his wife and all four children to show us how to make the individual cuts for the freezer.
The next day’s weather wasn’t quite as perfect as the high only got up to 21 degrees. Snow was falling heavily at times as James explained the different cuts of meat, and I think we all felt much colder. The outer edge of the carcass was frozen slightly, but the inside had not yet taken on much of the cold and was easy to cut. James showed us where to cut and Matthew made many of the cuts himself. We got bacon, loin chops, tenderloin, ribs, and roasts from the shoulders, butts, and hams. Matthew made almost all of the cuts himself on the second pig under James’ direction, as the women-folk prepared the meat in the house for the freezer.
My concluding comments are posted in the next entry:
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1 comment
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andiplus5 on February 22, 2009 at 8:23 am
Looks like you did a great job!! And you learned a lot.
I do have a tip for you and I hope I'm not offending you by giving it. We learned it the hard way. lol
If you run a stick through the back legs between the bone and tendon and tie the tail up to the stick too, it will stabilize your pig so you can skin it better. Or just to cut it better.
We used a come along too. The first time was a little harder than our next time but we learned from our mistakes. The first pig ended up on the floor of the shop we were using a couple of times. You should have seen us trying to haul that 300lb hog back up!! That was a sight to see! From your pics it doesn't look like you were as fraught with problems as we were.
Maybe we just like to do things the hard way first so we can appreciate the easy way! LOL
Enjoy that pig! Home butchered are the best tasting!
And God bless you for learning how to do it on your own!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Part 2: Reflections on Our First Home Hog Butchering-or- Our Journey Toward Self Sufficiency
Continued from Part 1.
Two years and three months ago we began the grand experiment of hog raising here at our Pure Water Hollow homestead. Since then, we have built pig lots and housing, purchased feeding and watering equipment, fenced and repaired fencing, and repaired housing and repaired more fencing. We have fed and watered the hogs every day, breaking ice on freezing winter days and carrying extra buckets of water for their wallows on sweltering summer afternoons. Three of the original 30 pound piglets we purchased have grown up into two sows weighing 700-800 pounds each and a behemoth of a boar that is likely over 900 pounds today.
We have witnessed over 85 piglets entering the world here at our homestead, with the sows each having had 4 litters of piglets now. We bought a trailer to haul these animals around in and have seen about 35 castrations at the hands of our local FFA chapter. Many of those piglets were sold as six to eight week old feeder pigs at $30-$40 apiece, some died, some were bartered away and a couple even given away. Over this time we have raised 10 of the pigs to the market size of 220–250 pound hogs (or bigger in the case of “Porky”, our first hog for the freezer). Some of those market hogs sold for $100 each and some made the three trips to the professional meat markets, which cut the pork up for our freezer.
And as of today, January 21st, 2009, we still have 15 six-week old piglets, 1 six-month old 220 pound market hog, and of course the original 2 sows and 1 boar. The 15 piglets and the market hog will soon be gone and we will begin preparing for the next litters of piglets. What we do not have today that we did have a couple of days ago, are two market hogs, each weighing about 240-250 pounds. They were butchered on the 19th and carved up on the 20th. And it was all done in-house so to speak, here at our own homestead!
The next logical step in the progression of our hog raising experiment was to learn how to butcher our own pigs for ourselves. It was really too large of a leap for my pessimistic mind to grab hold of, except in that pesky realm of fantasy, for a long time. I had read the accounts of hog butchering in the Foxfire books, Carla Emery’s book, and a few other books and on-line sources. It always seemed like something other people might be able to do, but I had such trouble picturing myself ever being in on such an adventure. I had gotten fairly content with the system we had worked up of loading the pigs into the wagon, hauling them off to the butcher, and later picking up the wrapped pork at the meat market, paying the man, and taking it all home to the freezer.
The last time we performed such a maneuver was this past August. We went to the same meat market we had used last January, but this time the results were such that made us declare that a change was needed. For one thing, they had raised the prices from January without telling us. The “kill fee”, the price per pound of carcass weight, as well as the price for cured meat had all risen substantially. The owner said that new government regulations being imposed on him had raised his expenses and he had to pass them on to the customer in order to continue making ends meet. He said that he had cut corners everywhere he could, even hiring new Mexican helpers at a low wage, but the price increases were still necessary. (This was back when gasoline was selling for the historic highs of $4.00 a gallon and the prices of everything were skyrocketing). So now it would cost us between $130 and $150 to have each pig processed for the freezer, compared to just about $100 before!
The price alone might not have driven me to drastic measures, but losing meat that we had worked hard for did infuriate me! You see, these pigs “somehow” yielded up much less meat to us than the ones from January, even though these animals were actually larger than those took in January! There were also strange irregularities among the three pigs themselves. The one pig that was obviously the largest gave us the least amount of meat! All together, we got back about 80 pounds of pork less than I was expecting based on our prior experiences. We complained to the owner before paying, but there was nothing we could really do. He said we must be mistaken because everything is weighed out carefully and recorded.
We had heard similar stories about other butchers, but I thought we were being careful by using a very professional outfit. I guess the bottom line is that you can never know for sure if you are getting everything, or even if you are getting meat from your own animals, unless you do it yourself. After the negative experience with the meat market I decided that we had to do something different. If we could do a home butchering we would save quite a bit of money, know for sure we were getting all the meat that we raised, as well as learn a vital survival skill.
I began asking people at church and in the community if anyone would be willing to come to our homestead and show us how to butcher a pig. We could butcher two hogs and they could take the meat from one of them. Many people talked like they knew how to do it, but no one knew good enough, or was willing, to take us up on our offer. I finally remembered a fellow, James Carter, who had bought one of our market hogs last January for $100 and had butchered it himself. We called and asked him if he would like to butcher a couple of more pigs. We offered to bring two market hogs to his home and give him one to keep in exchange for his knowledge of how to go about the butchering process. We would watch, help, and thereby learn how to butcher a hog on our own. He jumped at the opportunity and we set it up for January 19th, Martin Luther King Jr. day.
We were set to load the pigs on the wagon and take off to the Carter’s home but Providence had other plans. The roads were bad on this particular Monday with a light snowfall and recent temperatures that had been near zero degrees. James lives out in the country way up on a mountaintop, and their road never even gets treated, much less plowed. There was no way a van pulling a hog trailer would make it up there on such icy roads.
James had the solution. He would come to our home in his 4-wheel drive and we could butcher the hogs here! I was excited, but was also concerned that we were not ready. Did we have the materials needed? James said we just needed a gun, several sharp knives, a hatchet, a hacksaw, and somewhere to hang the hogs in the air. Since Matthew, my 15-year old, has been collecting sharp objects for some time now, I told James to come on over!
Continued in Part 3.
Two years and three months ago we began the grand experiment of hog raising here at our Pure Water Hollow homestead. Since then, we have built pig lots and housing, purchased feeding and watering equipment, fenced and repaired fencing, and repaired housing and repaired more fencing. We have fed and watered the hogs every day, breaking ice on freezing winter days and carrying extra buckets of water for their wallows on sweltering summer afternoons. Three of the original 30 pound piglets we purchased have grown up into two sows weighing 700-800 pounds each and a behemoth of a boar that is likely over 900 pounds today.
We have witnessed over 85 piglets entering the world here at our homestead, with the sows each having had 4 litters of piglets now. We bought a trailer to haul these animals around in and have seen about 35 castrations at the hands of our local FFA chapter. Many of those piglets were sold as six to eight week old feeder pigs at $30-$40 apiece, some died, some were bartered away and a couple even given away. Over this time we have raised 10 of the pigs to the market size of 220–250 pound hogs (or bigger in the case of “Porky”, our first hog for the freezer). Some of those market hogs sold for $100 each and some made the three trips to the professional meat markets, which cut the pork up for our freezer.
And as of today, January 21st, 2009, we still have 15 six-week old piglets, 1 six-month old 220 pound market hog, and of course the original 2 sows and 1 boar. The 15 piglets and the market hog will soon be gone and we will begin preparing for the next litters of piglets. What we do not have today that we did have a couple of days ago, are two market hogs, each weighing about 240-250 pounds. They were butchered on the 19th and carved up on the 20th. And it was all done in-house so to speak, here at our own homestead!
The next logical step in the progression of our hog raising experiment was to learn how to butcher our own pigs for ourselves. It was really too large of a leap for my pessimistic mind to grab hold of, except in that pesky realm of fantasy, for a long time. I had read the accounts of hog butchering in the Foxfire books, Carla Emery’s book, and a few other books and on-line sources. It always seemed like something other people might be able to do, but I had such trouble picturing myself ever being in on such an adventure. I had gotten fairly content with the system we had worked up of loading the pigs into the wagon, hauling them off to the butcher, and later picking up the wrapped pork at the meat market, paying the man, and taking it all home to the freezer.
The last time we performed such a maneuver was this past August. We went to the same meat market we had used last January, but this time the results were such that made us declare that a change was needed. For one thing, they had raised the prices from January without telling us. The “kill fee”, the price per pound of carcass weight, as well as the price for cured meat had all risen substantially. The owner said that new government regulations being imposed on him had raised his expenses and he had to pass them on to the customer in order to continue making ends meet. He said that he had cut corners everywhere he could, even hiring new Mexican helpers at a low wage, but the price increases were still necessary. (This was back when gasoline was selling for the historic highs of $4.00 a gallon and the prices of everything were skyrocketing). So now it would cost us between $130 and $150 to have each pig processed for the freezer, compared to just about $100 before!
The price alone might not have driven me to drastic measures, but losing meat that we had worked hard for did infuriate me! You see, these pigs “somehow” yielded up much less meat to us than the ones from January, even though these animals were actually larger than those took in January! There were also strange irregularities among the three pigs themselves. The one pig that was obviously the largest gave us the least amount of meat! All together, we got back about 80 pounds of pork less than I was expecting based on our prior experiences. We complained to the owner before paying, but there was nothing we could really do. He said we must be mistaken because everything is weighed out carefully and recorded.
We had heard similar stories about other butchers, but I thought we were being careful by using a very professional outfit. I guess the bottom line is that you can never know for sure if you are getting everything, or even if you are getting meat from your own animals, unless you do it yourself. After the negative experience with the meat market I decided that we had to do something different. If we could do a home butchering we would save quite a bit of money, know for sure we were getting all the meat that we raised, as well as learn a vital survival skill.
I began asking people at church and in the community if anyone would be willing to come to our homestead and show us how to butcher a pig. We could butcher two hogs and they could take the meat from one of them. Many people talked like they knew how to do it, but no one knew good enough, or was willing, to take us up on our offer. I finally remembered a fellow, James Carter, who had bought one of our market hogs last January for $100 and had butchered it himself. We called and asked him if he would like to butcher a couple of more pigs. We offered to bring two market hogs to his home and give him one to keep in exchange for his knowledge of how to go about the butchering process. We would watch, help, and thereby learn how to butcher a hog on our own. He jumped at the opportunity and we set it up for January 19th, Martin Luther King Jr. day.
We were set to load the pigs on the wagon and take off to the Carter’s home but Providence had other plans. The roads were bad on this particular Monday with a light snowfall and recent temperatures that had been near zero degrees. James lives out in the country way up on a mountaintop, and their road never even gets treated, much less plowed. There was no way a van pulling a hog trailer would make it up there on such icy roads.
James had the solution. He would come to our home in his 4-wheel drive and we could butcher the hogs here! I was excited, but was also concerned that we were not ready. Did we have the materials needed? James said we just needed a gun, several sharp knives, a hatchet, a hacksaw, and somewhere to hang the hogs in the air. Since Matthew, my 15-year old, has been collecting sharp objects for some time now, I told James to come on over!
Continued in Part 3.
Part 1: Reflections on Our First Home Hog Butchering…OR… Our Journey Toward Self-Sufficiency
When I first bought Carla Emery’s “The Encyclopedia of Country Living” for Lisa (Christmas of 2005) we were in the beginning stages of our journey toward self-sufficiency. At that time, raising our own pork for the freezer was a dream, and actually being able to butcher our own hogs seemed almost impossible. Even after the dream started to come true a year later in 2006, the pages covering hog butchering in Carla’s book were ones that I did not think could ever apply to us. We processed several pigs via professional meat markets in 2007 and 2008, our freezer was full of home grown quality pork, and the dream had become true! Even then, butchering our own hog, preparing the meat ourselves, all with our own tools and on our own property, existed in my mind only in the misty-murky world of fantasy.
The world of fantasy has now mingled and merged with the world of reality! I sit here, now a day later, thinking back on this amazing moment in the history of my homestead. It has all caused me to be in a rather reflective mood, and during such times I have often found a desire to capture some of those thoughts and feelings in writing.
I will get to the actual hog butchering eventually, but my thoughts are first drifting back through the pages of time. Growing up with somewhat of a city-boy mentality doesn’t generally lend itself to a welcoming attitude about self-butchering a couple of 250 pound hogs. Especially when one considers the potential violent nature of the shooting and sticking (slitting the neck with a sharp knife) and the bleeding and the hanging of the carcass and the gutting and the smells and the skinning and the carving. Needless to say, I did not arrive at my current positive attitude concerning this process overnight. Looking back, I can see that God was working in my thought-processes for some time.
After the floodwaters receded, God told Noah that “every moving thing that livest shall be meat for you” (Genesis 9:3). I’ve always been a meat-eater, but for most of my life I had never given much thought about how the grocery store got it’s meat. In 1993 we moved to our present homestead in eastern Kentucky where hunting and fishing are a regular part of life for many of the residents. I began to listen to the stories so many of our friends and neighbors told about bagging wild game and I enjoyed the venison and deer jerky they shared. I always liked the romantic notion of becoming one with the wilderness, spending time in God’s wonderland of nature, and accepting the meat for my family that He provides in our own backyard. If it were really that easy, I think I would have become a great hunter long ago.
As the decade of the 1990s began to wind down, there began to be much discussion and hype about a possible catastrophe that could significantly disrupt “life as we know it” in America. They called it the “Y2K” problem. Warnings were everywhere in the media and very reputable mainstream sources, even from within the United States government, were recommending stocking up the pantry and making preparations for being without power or services of any kind for an extended period of time. Like millions of people (probably billions worldwide), we began to evaluate how our family could survive more than a few weeks in such a situation. And, like millions of people, we discovered that we were woefully dependent on others for nearly every necessity of life.
It was during this time that we made the fortunate decision to spend the money to drill our well down to over 400 feet to see if we could get good water. God blessed us with hitting a massive aquifer that created an artesian well! We now had an excellent source of water that came up to us, even without electricity. We also realized that wild game was abundant in our mountains, and Lisa did have the experiences in her growing up years of gutting, cleaning, and preparing fish, rabbit, squirrel, and chicken. If it came down to it, I would learn how to hunt or trap such small game. Cooking it would be a challenge with no electricity, especially after the propane in the grill ran out, but with God’s help, we would survive.
Fortunately, we did not have to discover how inadequate our situation was by dealing with a real emergency, and the computers took it all in stride as our calendar changed to the new millennium. Life was not altered for us in any way, and soon most believed that everything would press on as usual for America. A mere 19 months later, however, we found out that “life as we know it” could be changed in a moment of time as our great nation was shaken with the 9-11-2001 terrorist attacks. Americans everywhere felt a collective vulnerability and uncertainty about the future. What if something like that happened even closer to our home? What if the food supply to our grocery outlets became disabled? What if the nation’s electricity power grid became compromised?
I don’t think I was ever paranoid, but it did open my eyes to our surroundings. It started making sense to better use the resources God had made available to us here at Pure Water Hollow. We had a nice garden spot and some fruit trees and we planted grapevines and more fruit trees. Soon we were gardening more intensively, learning the art of canning, and harvesting many vegetables, cherries, grapes, peaches, pears, blackberries, and apples. Lisa began to study the wild plants and trees that abounded in our mountains to learn the edible and medicinal possibilities that existed for us.
I knew that protein was also an important part of survival, and I was pleased to get our chickens from a neighbor the spring of 2004. News reports about poor production practices, harmful chemicals and preservatives, and even disease in commercial meat and eggs had been flourishing for some time and the overall quality of the food we buy at the grocery had come into question. Apparently the meat and eggs available today are not as healthy for us as the meat and eggs available in the grocery a generation ago. We were thankful to have plenty of farm-fresh eggs that came from our own free-range/corn-fed chickens.
I was also excited about the possibility of having our own homegrown chicken meat in our freezer. I was not necessarily fond of what would need to be done to provide that, however. It helped that Lisa had experience with the butchering of chickens, so it wasn’t much of a mystery for at least one of us. I knew that God had provided these animals for our meat, but causing the life of one of God’s beautiful, breathing creatures to end at my own hand was another whole matter to work through emotionally.
Knowing that it was the right thing to do for my family, I was able to overcome my emotional reservations. I killed my first chicken January of 2007 as the hatchet in my hand separated the rooster’s head from its’ body. This was the first time I purposefully took the life of a living creature. I didn’t even let the scornful look I imagined in the eye of the bodiless head bother me. The rooster giving his life for our family was his purpose in this world and it was a good thing, so I thanked him for his sacrifice. I have since then taken the heads off many more roosters. I chop and pluck and Lisa does the evisceration and cleaning.
The first mammal I purposely killed was also in connection with chickens. It was a stray dog that had been killing our layers. We had tried to run him off, but he kept coming back. It was savagely devouring a chicken next to our driveway when I brought out the 12-gauge shotgun. He looked at me and I looked at him. There was no malice in my mind, just a sense of duty. I pulled the trigger with some regret but it was my responsibility to protect the chickens in my care and keep them safe. I was disturbed a bit with the way the dog’s body flopped and twitched after I pulled that trigger. I was thankful, however, that the threat to our meat and egg supply was gone.
Another time I shot a squirrel and Lisa fixed it up and we ate it. Shooting a dog that we did not know or a wild squirrel, or chopping the head off a chicken is quite a bit different than shooting a pig that you have fed, cared for, and raised for 6 months. Could we really do that? And at 250 pounds it would be quite a bit larger than a chicken. Could we do all that would be necessary to put pork on our table to feed our family? Would we want to?
The answer to that last inquiry was always more of a “yes” than a “probably not”, but as I said earlier, it was only in the fantasy world of my imagination. I had read many accounts of how the old timers in these hills had such high regards for their hogs in days gone by. A hog or two could supply the family with meat for the entire winter, and they could make good use of “everything but the squeal”. Hog butchering was a common occurrence in these parts for generations. I have long wished to learn about the “old ways” of things, back when man was self-sufficient and did not have to rely on Wal-Mart for all his needs.
If a family could be self-sufficient once again, there would be little disruption in their life even if the computer world goes on the biltz, or terrorists are successful in another massive attack, or if the commercial food supply gets poisoned, or our petroleum supply is interrupted, or if the economy crashes, or America’s energy grid fails. And if nothing dire happens in the future, being self-sufficient would still be a rewarding, satisfying lifestyle. Raising our own hogs to butcher ourselves was another step in that direction.
Continued in Part 2.
The world of fantasy has now mingled and merged with the world of reality! I sit here, now a day later, thinking back on this amazing moment in the history of my homestead. It has all caused me to be in a rather reflective mood, and during such times I have often found a desire to capture some of those thoughts and feelings in writing.
I will get to the actual hog butchering eventually, but my thoughts are first drifting back through the pages of time. Growing up with somewhat of a city-boy mentality doesn’t generally lend itself to a welcoming attitude about self-butchering a couple of 250 pound hogs. Especially when one considers the potential violent nature of the shooting and sticking (slitting the neck with a sharp knife) and the bleeding and the hanging of the carcass and the gutting and the smells and the skinning and the carving. Needless to say, I did not arrive at my current positive attitude concerning this process overnight. Looking back, I can see that God was working in my thought-processes for some time.
After the floodwaters receded, God told Noah that “every moving thing that livest shall be meat for you” (Genesis 9:3). I’ve always been a meat-eater, but for most of my life I had never given much thought about how the grocery store got it’s meat. In 1993 we moved to our present homestead in eastern Kentucky where hunting and fishing are a regular part of life for many of the residents. I began to listen to the stories so many of our friends and neighbors told about bagging wild game and I enjoyed the venison and deer jerky they shared. I always liked the romantic notion of becoming one with the wilderness, spending time in God’s wonderland of nature, and accepting the meat for my family that He provides in our own backyard. If it were really that easy, I think I would have become a great hunter long ago.
As the decade of the 1990s began to wind down, there began to be much discussion and hype about a possible catastrophe that could significantly disrupt “life as we know it” in America. They called it the “Y2K” problem. Warnings were everywhere in the media and very reputable mainstream sources, even from within the United States government, were recommending stocking up the pantry and making preparations for being without power or services of any kind for an extended period of time. Like millions of people (probably billions worldwide), we began to evaluate how our family could survive more than a few weeks in such a situation. And, like millions of people, we discovered that we were woefully dependent on others for nearly every necessity of life.
It was during this time that we made the fortunate decision to spend the money to drill our well down to over 400 feet to see if we could get good water. God blessed us with hitting a massive aquifer that created an artesian well! We now had an excellent source of water that came up to us, even without electricity. We also realized that wild game was abundant in our mountains, and Lisa did have the experiences in her growing up years of gutting, cleaning, and preparing fish, rabbit, squirrel, and chicken. If it came down to it, I would learn how to hunt or trap such small game. Cooking it would be a challenge with no electricity, especially after the propane in the grill ran out, but with God’s help, we would survive.
Fortunately, we did not have to discover how inadequate our situation was by dealing with a real emergency, and the computers took it all in stride as our calendar changed to the new millennium. Life was not altered for us in any way, and soon most believed that everything would press on as usual for America. A mere 19 months later, however, we found out that “life as we know it” could be changed in a moment of time as our great nation was shaken with the 9-11-2001 terrorist attacks. Americans everywhere felt a collective vulnerability and uncertainty about the future. What if something like that happened even closer to our home? What if the food supply to our grocery outlets became disabled? What if the nation’s electricity power grid became compromised?
I don’t think I was ever paranoid, but it did open my eyes to our surroundings. It started making sense to better use the resources God had made available to us here at Pure Water Hollow. We had a nice garden spot and some fruit trees and we planted grapevines and more fruit trees. Soon we were gardening more intensively, learning the art of canning, and harvesting many vegetables, cherries, grapes, peaches, pears, blackberries, and apples. Lisa began to study the wild plants and trees that abounded in our mountains to learn the edible and medicinal possibilities that existed for us.
I knew that protein was also an important part of survival, and I was pleased to get our chickens from a neighbor the spring of 2004. News reports about poor production practices, harmful chemicals and preservatives, and even disease in commercial meat and eggs had been flourishing for some time and the overall quality of the food we buy at the grocery had come into question. Apparently the meat and eggs available today are not as healthy for us as the meat and eggs available in the grocery a generation ago. We were thankful to have plenty of farm-fresh eggs that came from our own free-range/corn-fed chickens.
I was also excited about the possibility of having our own homegrown chicken meat in our freezer. I was not necessarily fond of what would need to be done to provide that, however. It helped that Lisa had experience with the butchering of chickens, so it wasn’t much of a mystery for at least one of us. I knew that God had provided these animals for our meat, but causing the life of one of God’s beautiful, breathing creatures to end at my own hand was another whole matter to work through emotionally.
Knowing that it was the right thing to do for my family, I was able to overcome my emotional reservations. I killed my first chicken January of 2007 as the hatchet in my hand separated the rooster’s head from its’ body. This was the first time I purposefully took the life of a living creature. I didn’t even let the scornful look I imagined in the eye of the bodiless head bother me. The rooster giving his life for our family was his purpose in this world and it was a good thing, so I thanked him for his sacrifice. I have since then taken the heads off many more roosters. I chop and pluck and Lisa does the evisceration and cleaning.
The first mammal I purposely killed was also in connection with chickens. It was a stray dog that had been killing our layers. We had tried to run him off, but he kept coming back. It was savagely devouring a chicken next to our driveway when I brought out the 12-gauge shotgun. He looked at me and I looked at him. There was no malice in my mind, just a sense of duty. I pulled the trigger with some regret but it was my responsibility to protect the chickens in my care and keep them safe. I was disturbed a bit with the way the dog’s body flopped and twitched after I pulled that trigger. I was thankful, however, that the threat to our meat and egg supply was gone.
Another time I shot a squirrel and Lisa fixed it up and we ate it. Shooting a dog that we did not know or a wild squirrel, or chopping the head off a chicken is quite a bit different than shooting a pig that you have fed, cared for, and raised for 6 months. Could we really do that? And at 250 pounds it would be quite a bit larger than a chicken. Could we do all that would be necessary to put pork on our table to feed our family? Would we want to?
The answer to that last inquiry was always more of a “yes” than a “probably not”, but as I said earlier, it was only in the fantasy world of my imagination. I had read many accounts of how the old timers in these hills had such high regards for their hogs in days gone by. A hog or two could supply the family with meat for the entire winter, and they could make good use of “everything but the squeal”. Hog butchering was a common occurrence in these parts for generations. I have long wished to learn about the “old ways” of things, back when man was self-sufficient and did not have to rely on Wal-Mart for all his needs.
If a family could be self-sufficient once again, there would be little disruption in their life even if the computer world goes on the biltz, or terrorists are successful in another massive attack, or if the commercial food supply gets poisoned, or our petroleum supply is interrupted, or if the economy crashes, or America’s energy grid fails. And if nothing dire happens in the future, being self-sufficient would still be a rewarding, satisfying lifestyle. Raising our own hogs to butcher ourselves was another step in that direction.
Continued in Part 2.
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